


To Give and Take

by Dalek_Gamma, shadowvixen89



Category: Mad Max Series (Movies)
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe, Arcadia - Freeform, Be gentle, Deception, F/F, F/M, First Fanfiction, I'm Bad At Tagging, Louis Lowry, M/M, Mad Max - Freeform, Manipulation, Need feedback, Original Character(s), Post-Apocalypse, The Giver - Freeform, comments please, resource wars
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-31
Updated: 2017-03-30
Packaged: 2018-10-11 10:37:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10462971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dalek_Gamma/pseuds/Dalek_Gamma, https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowvixen89/pseuds/shadowvixen89
Summary: This story takes place before the start of  the Mad Max Fury Road movie. This story will not be leading up to the escape of the wives, so don't be looking for it to do so; in a way it will start as if those events never took place. It is a tale for Nux,  the young warboy driver who wants to prove himself worthy of Valhalla and ride forever shiny and chrome beside his fellow fallen warriors of old. When a stranger comes to pay homage to Immortan Joe with promises of green lands across the dessert as well as healthy children to carry on his name; on the condition he send warriors to protect the settlers of this land. Well it sounds almost too good to be true.........or is it?





	1. A Feeling

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shadowvixen89](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowvixen89/gifts).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: This story takes place before the start of the Mad Max Fury Road movie. This story will not be leading up to the escape of the wives, so don't be looking for it to do so; in a way it will start as if those events never took place. It is a tale for Nux, the young warboy driver who wants to prove himself worthy of Valhalla and ride forever shiny and chrome beside his fellow fallen warriors of old. When a stranger comes to pay homage to Immortan Joe with promises of green lands across the dessert as well as healthy children to carry on his name; on the condition he send warriors to protect the settlers of this land. Well it sounds almost too good to be true.........or is it?

~~~~ Chapter One: A Feeling ~~~~

“This is the last time I'm carrying your ass in the middle of the night to the Organic,” Slit growled as he laid me down none too gently onto the stone slab. The night fever clouded my vision as I smiled at his face twisted in anger at yet another sleepless night in the Organic Mechanic's shop. “Sorry I'm a shite partner, but don't ya worry Slit. The Organic will fix me up good as new, like always. I just need a top-off and I'll be good to drive in the morning!” I said with enough bravo to make him smirk as the Organic bustled into view shining a lantern in my face. “Again Nux?! That's the third time this week that you've needed a top-off!”, the Organic teased me, “ If this keeps up you'll run through the spare blood bags”, he said as he unhooked one of the ferals from the cage hanging above us. After hooking up the blood bag's neck with a needle and tubing I offered my arm ready for him to insert the other end. “Just lie back and try to sleep, I'll be back in a bit to unhook ya. Shouldn't be more a little over half an hour then its back to the barracks for ya both,” I nodded my thanks to the Organic as he shuffled off carrying the lantern as it cast frightful shadows against the walls. 

 

SMACK! Slit's hand slapped the back of my head, “ He said lay down dumbass! If you stay sitting up it'll take longer for the blood to go in you and if I have to spend any longer than I have to in here with you I'll go back by myself without you! Got it?!” “I got it! I got it! Look I'm laying down now, we won't be here long!” I said as I rubbed the back of my head feeling weak from the fever, I eased down on the slab resting my left arm under my head as I stared up at the dark gray ceiling above. Minutes passed as the fresh blood flowed down into my body, I couldn't sleep it was too hot and stuffy. Slit started chucking small rocks at the blood bag until he became bored and settled for staring at my prone form counting down until my tank was full enough that he could return to his comfy bed. “I won't die soft Slit. Its not in me, never has been, never will be. I just need a chance to prove myself that's all. If I could just show Immorten Joe that I'm worthy of Valhalla, then maybe I can go out in glory,” I muttered as the high octane blood filled up my weak sickly body bringing new strength to my spirit as I made my vow. 

 

“Hahaa-Ahhaha, don't you worry Nux. You'll get your chance and when the time comes I'll be right beside you. There's no way a driver can make it to the gates of Valhalla without his Lancer,” Slit smirked as his laughter made my face blush with pride. Ever since we were warpups we've been together supporting each other until we were picked to be part of Immorten Joe's war pack, as driver and lancer. It just seemed inevitable that we'd fight side by side. As much as I put on that we'll go out in a blaze of glory together I'm not so sure anymore; between Larry and Barry cutting off my intake in my sleep and the night fevers it'll only be a matter of time before I'll be running on empty. But for now just being here grinning like an idiot with Slit is enough for this warboy. “Alright that should be enough,”the organic tromps in on us laughing and unhooks the tube from my arm and gestures for us to put the blood bag back in his cage. Using the bit of strength I regained from the fuel up I lift the limp body back into the rusty cage as Slit closes the hatch with a resounding clank. “Thanks for the top-off!” I shout waving gleefully to the retreating Organic much to the embarrassment of Slit as we start walking back to the barracks. 

 

Navigating through the dimly lit tunnel we finally make it back to our bunks with only a few hours to spare until day break. As I ease onto the pile of old oil stained cloths that made up my bedding I can't help but wonder when I'll finally be given a chance to prove myself. “Hey Slit, you still awake?” I ask the body across from mine cautiously. Slowly he rolls over and glares daggers at me as he hisses, “Doesn't look like I'll be given the chance to be otherwise. What in the name of everything shiny and chrome do you want now?!!” Flinching slightly from his angry tone I merely mumble, “Goo-Goodnight Slit!” and roll over away from his angry glare. “Fucking idiot,” I hear him mutter as he too rolled away from me and eventually started snoring. But as the hours passed I couldn't bring myself to sleep, call it a feeling but somehow I just knew that tomorrow something was gonna change.


	2. A Chance at Glory

“Who are you?!! Why have you come here to my domain?” spoke the booming voice of Immortan Joe as he arrived to the overlook of the platform entrance flanked on either side by his bodyguards and sons. With baited breath I clung to the railing waiting to see what this stranger's reply to our leader would be as Slit nudged in the ribs with his elbow passing me a pair of binoculars that was making its way down the line. As I held the lenses to my eyes the figure took a clearer form, it appeared to be a thin young man about my height wearing black clothing, rifle strapped to his back, and a fully equipped utility belt with a small side arm. But when I tried to get a glimpse of the guy's face I realized he was wearing a black gas mask that I had seen often worn by the boys from Gas Town, there was no way to make out anymore details from this distance so I passed the lenses to the next pair of eager hands. 

Collectively we gazed on as the figure climbed on to the top of the ramshackle cart and held a small amplifier to his mouthpiece, “I'm a dignitary from across the dessert, come to pay tribute to the almighty Immortan Joe and humbly ask for his aid.” As so as the word 'tribute' was uttered the wretched swarmed around the cart like flies on carcass, as one they grabbed at the sides of the cart pushing it with their combined weight in an attempt to tip it over. A chorus of cries came from my fellow warboys, some cheered for the stranger to fight while others were hopeful to see a slaughter take place before their eyes. The stranger swayed backwards and forwards with the motion of the cart but his footing never faltered as he began franticly rummaging through his compartments searching for something; hopefully a weapon he could use to defend the precious cargo he carried. Then he pulled his hand out of one pocket holding what looked like a metal rock with a cap on the top, he yanked the top piece off and tossed it towards the zealous crowd. BOOM!!! An explosion reverberated from the object as thick smoke spewed out from it like an angry exhaust pipe, those that weren't hurt by the explosion started dropping dead-like to the ground while the others scrambled as far away as they could holding their throats and covering their mouths. BANG! BANG! BANG! Gunfire erupted from the strange warrior's pistol taking down anyone within reach of the rickety cart until the horde of people dispersed from sight taking cover behind rocks or in shallow holes as far away as they could from the deadly shots. Satisfied with the reaction the stranger lifted the amplifier to his face again, “I bring tribute to the great Immorten Joe, lower the platform,” he said as he held the pistol aimed at his next target waiting for a reply. 

 

Everyone turned to Immorten with weapons at the ready waiting for the signal to shred the newcomer or welcome him into our home. For what seemed like hours Immorten stood there gazing hard at the black cloaked warrior as if he was looking into the boy's soul judging his worthiness until his son ,Corpus Colossus, leaned toward his ear to whisper his opinion. We're too far away to hear what is being discussed between them but for the glances shared between them I'd wager my wheel that Corpus wants to let the warrior inside to receive the tribute. After one last hard glance Immorten raised his left hand motioning the elevator guardians to lower the platform as he spoke into the microphone, “ Lay down your weapons as you enter the citadel, we shall consider your tribute and judge whether it is acceptable payment for your request.” Hearing the declaration the newcomer hurries to the platform pulling with little effort as he is greeted by the guardians to surrender his weapons to them. Now that the standoff was over many of the warboys were returning to their stations but as the platform was raised I couldn't tear my eyes off the sight of the cart; my gut feeling from last night was coming back in full force telling me something was about to happen. 

As we entered the tunnels once again I grabbed Slit's arm and pulled him to the side, “ We have got to be there when the tributes are presented, something isn't right I know it.” Slit gives me a confused expression like he had no idea what I was on about but glanced back at the elevator being docked at the entrance, “You might be on to something Nux, let's find Ace. If anyone could get us in on the meeting it'd be him.” Brilliant idea, I thought as we raced to find Ace stopping momentarily to return our weapons to the armory room on our way to the Imperator's lieutenant quarters. We didn't have to look far as Ace was directing the other warboys outside of the gates ordering the newcomer be searched and seize the weapons found on him. “Ace! Me and Slit want to help out can we be your bodyguards or something while this stranger is in the Citadel?” I ask as we come up to his side eying the stranger stood next to the cart with his hands behind his head passively accepting the pat down he was receiving. Ace glanced between us as if sizing us up for the job, “Couldn't hurt to have an extra pair of fists if needed, but do as I say and keep your mouth shut unless you're spoken to. Got it?” he whispered to us giving us a conspiratory grin. Nodding our understanding we took up positions on either side of the cart as the black cloaked stranger took up his position at the front and began to push the cart following Ace as he lead the way towards the center of the citadel. 

 

The throne room was lit by torches of fire hanging along the walls, the air was moist from the aqua cola supply being stored underneath our feet. Evey high ranking member of Immorten's elite were gathered to witness this glorious offering; there in the back waiting for Ace was Imperator Furiosa her eyes trained onto the cart ready for any surprise attack that might be coming our way. Slowly the cart was pulled into the center of the chamber so that all eyes would be able to see the treasures that were held inside would be on display for all to see. Immorten lifted his hand in a silent command to stop the cart's advancement, prompting the stranger to halt his pace and wait for further instructions from our commander. From my position I could see the stranger up close almost within an arm's distance from him, it'd be easy to take him down if Immorten were to give the signal. A deep breath taken got my attention as Immorten addressed the stranger, “Take off your mask newcomer, if you want to negotiate with me I want to see your face.” 

Slowly the black clad warrior unfastened the straps securing the mask in place and pulled it off his face revealing half a young pink faced boy, just below his nose his mouth was covered with a greenish cloth that wrapped around his neck. He had a sharp beak like nose and his hair style was closely cut brown hair matted to the top of his head but shaved along the sides. His eyes were as blue as the endless sky. 'This boy doesn't even look as old as me and he took down a dozen wretched singlehandedly,' I thought to myself with astonishment, ' Just who is this guy?' The young warrior tied his gas mask to his belt, stood at attention with his hands behind his back, stared directly at our God and began to speak with a rough dry voice that sounded like it had not been used for many days. 

“I am 2nd Lieutenant Stitch from the settlement beyond the dessert. Thank you for granting me audience and for accepting my tribute to you great Immorten,” he nods his head respectfully towards our leader his rigid posture never wavering. “You continue to speak of tribute but all I see is a rusty old cart carrying five rusty oil drums. I am curious how you made it this far into my domain without coming into contact with my scouts or attracting attention, its very rare to find such a capable warrior wondering the fury road alone and with no car,”said Immorten Joe as he waved his hand towards the cart. Stitch turned his head to look at the cart of which our leader spoke with a knowing look in his eyes that could be found in a mischievous warpup. “I traveled during the night to avoid detection and rested during the day time. Your scouts have passed me on the Fury road but were never aware of my presence. Would you like me to demonstrate how I evaded them?” he said with pride resonating in his voice. 'How could we have missed this dinky little cart?! There is no way this warrior could have survived for so long and made it so deep into our territory without anyone noticing!' I screamed in my head thinking of all the times I was on a patrol struggling to remember if I had ever seen this person before now. Immorten nodded his consent for the demonstration as the Imperators leaned in closer as many were sure to be as interested as the rest of us dying to know just how this warrior managed to slip past our security. 

 

Stitch reached for the edge of the cart's roof, pulled a pin loose and began to pull out what looked like a really shiny sheet of metal that was stored inside a compartment hidden in the design. One by one he pulled an locked the sheets into place until they surrounded the cart reflecting their surroundings; if this thing had been in the middle of the dessert it would look like an other pile of sand in the wastes. This guy even had the gall to say 'Ta-da!' waving his hands toward the now invisible cart. “Very clever boy using mirrors to camouflage your cargo,”mumbled Impertor Furiosa as she leaned back from the display. The young boy bowed towards her for the complainant, it really was quite clever actually. His people probably didn't want him followed from their base and with little weapons or supplies stealth was the best advantage he had in order to survive alone on the Fury Road. 

 

“Why do you still cover your face boy?!” shouted one of the other Impertors pointing at the scarf covering the bottom half of the boy's face. The boy stood back at attention, faced the Impertor calmly stating, “ This is part of the reason I am here, our settlement was weakened by a fever that broke out a few weeks ago and in order to prevent the spread of the sickness to your Citadel I have covered my face,” he answer was met with a few people backing up from him as unrest began to take root among the elite. Immorten Joe stood to his full height, “YOU DARE BRING DISEASE TO MY FORTRESS!?!” Guns were drawn directed at the foolish young warrior as he raised his hands in surrender a look of panic in his eyes as he quickly spoke, “Great Immorten I bring no sickness with me! I was never with fever and was sent on this mission before coming into contact with any of the diseased; I wear this cloth as a courtesy to you and your people in case I could be a carrier of the fever sickness!” 

 

A few tense minutes dragged on as everyone waited for Immorten's next command that would decide the life or death of this interesting young warrior. While Immorten was still considering what to do with him, young Corpus Colossus spoke up, “You swear you come bearing no contagious sickness?” The young warrior quickly nodded towards the man child glancing around the room at the many weapons still pointed at his vulnerable body. Corpus leaned towards his father, “ If he has been out in the wastes as long as he claims surely he would've become sick by now if he was infected Dad. But just for extra security we can put him in isolation until after we've finished with the negotiations.” Immorten seemed to consider this plan as he lowered his revolver, “ Since you don't appear to be sick with the disease we will allow you to stay in the Citadel but you will have to keep interactions with my warriors to a minimum in order to prevent any sickness from being passed to them. Agreed?” The warrior named Stitch nodded rapidly; Immorten holstered his gun and sat down on his throne, “Then continue with your story traveler but do not offer anymore unsettling surprises or your life will be forfeit.” 

 

My blood was rushing through my pipes just eager for this fool to make a wrong move, he was clearly a threat to us and yet he was being allowed to live. Stitch slowly lowered his hands as the war boys lowered their guns, each of his breaths were quick and muffled as he tried to calm himself before continuing his story. Finally he took a deep breath and began again, “ My people were struck with sickness it is true, our numbers are in question because so many have fallen ill. We were easily over a thousand strong but when the fever broke out out ranks became thin. Many of our best fighters are struggling to survive the fever as we speak, that is why I was sent here to beg for assistance. Please send with me some of your warriors to protect my people from invaders while our numbers recover and we shall pay tribute to you every year for the rest of our lives,” he spoke smoothly as he paced around the invisible cart withdrawing the reflective metal to reveal it once more. “What tributes do you offer? I see nothing of value in that cart except possibly five barrels of guzzaline which is worthless to us as we can acquire ten times that amount from our trades with Gas Town,” an old Impertor pointed out to the foolish boy as said boy began to pry the tops off the barrels. 

 

“Forgive me sir but you lack imagination,” replied the boy as he continued to pry off the metal tops revealing sand in the barrels. 'What the hell are we gonna do with sand?!!' I thought to myself as the strange boy continued with his little mocking speech scooping out handfuls of sand and throwing it on the ground. He continued piling up the sand until five barrels of the stuff surrounded the cart, he leaned in and pulled out five large clay jars and laid them in a line in front of himself. “These are my offerings to you and your people,” Stitch removed the lid of the first jar revealing it to be full of bulging cloth pouches the size of my fist. He took one into his hands loosened the string holding it together and poured what looked to be pebbles into his cupped hand. “ In this jar are a hundred pouches containing over ten thousand seeds of various crops we grown in our fields, enough for yourself to start your own garden and grown food for your people,” he uncovers the second jar and pulls out what appears to be a dried out lizard with no legs, “ This jar contains smoked fish from my settlement's hatchery.” He uncovers the third jar and pulls out something that looks like a red sphere, “This jar contains various fruit from our orchard,” the fourth jar opens, “here are fresh vegetables from our crops that were harvested a week before the outbreak,” and finally the fifth jar is uncovered.“ This jar is the most important,” he paused for a moment his eyes crinkle as if he is smiling underneath his scarf as he reaches inside the jar and pulls out a plump brown disk, “ this jar contains the freshly baked bread from our bakery.” Reverently he passes each offering to an Impertor stealing glances at Immorten's face as if trying to gauge his reaction to the tributes. I'm left speechless as I watched the foreign things being sniffed and tasted by my superiors; this wise-ass was offering food as tribute to our God! 

 

'Our God is a god of war! Of blood! Of glory! This is hardly an acceptable offering, it is beyond mediocre as Slit would say,' I muse while awaiting the final say from our commander. Once everyone has sampled the offerings Stitch kneels to the ground with his head bowed, “Are these offerings acceptable to you?” The whole room takes a breath waiting for Immorten to pass judgment.


	3. A Stranger Cometh

As gentle moonlight gave way to the harsh unforgiving sun the drums began to sound off in crashes of thunder waking all the warboys and warpups alike to welcome the glorious new day. Groggily I followed Slit to the slurry pits to get a fresh coat of paint on my skin before starting the new day in the mechanic shops below. As I stripped off my pants and drenched my body into the thick paste I tried to suppress a powerful yawn, when suddenly Slit shoved me into the pit! “Wake up nuts! You're taking too long, hurry up!” shouted Slit as he pushed me aside to scoop up a great glop of paste and started smearing it onto his broad chest. Gasping for breath I swam to the edge of the hole and hoisted myself up to safety, slipped back into my pants, and waited patiently for him to finish coating himself. When he was satisfied with the amount of paste applied he motioned with his head toward the mess hall. 

There we each grabbed a bottle of Mother's milk, a bowl of greens, and meal grown from the gardens of the Citadel before sitting at one of the long tables where a few pups were gathered around listening to a tale being spun by the Ace. Perched on one of the stools sat the old warboy lumpy and scared like the rest of us but unlike the rest he was much wiser, worthy of serving under Imperator Furiosa. A fond smile graced his leathery face as he acknowledged our presence with a nod of his head, continuing his story of how he saved the war rig during a supply run many years ago while Furiosa and her crew held off attackers long enough for him to fix the blown engine to get them to safety. It was a popular story told to most young pups and personally one of my favorites. The Ace had a way with words that he painted a picture in your head that made you feel like you were there too fighting along side him shiny and chrome. 

“And then Imperator Furiosa yelled at one of the crew, 'keep firing until Ace gets the engine patched', I ducked oncoming fire as I crawled from one engine to the next with just a wrench and some rope I pulled from the supply compartment,” he lowered himself to the floor onto his belly crawling from chair to chair dodging invisible bullets as he went along with the story, “At last it came down to one engine that was overheated so I unscrewed the cap and poured all me water rations down the tank praying it'd cool it off just enough to get us the hell out of there. That's where I got these burn scars on me hands,” he said as he showed the pups the mangled flesh of his right hand that bore the imprint of a radiator valve. “What happened next Ace?” said one eager pup squirming in his seat while the Ace heaved up from the floor and returned to his seat. I grinned into my near empty bowl as the Ace looked thoughtful for a moment, smiled and stated proudly, “ We kicked all their asses and came back home victorious!” Immediately several of the pups let out a shout of approval, a few even flashed some V8 signs in respect of the ancient warrior.  
With the story concluded the Ace meandered through the throng of admiring pups and sat across from Slit and I ready to give us our day's orders. “Right I need Slit in the shop dismantling a few rigs we salvaged a couple weeks ago, sort through the parts carefully. Keep what's good and send the rest to the forges to be melted down. Nux, I need you in the repair bay one of the vehicles is acting up and we need a good black thumb to sort it out. Once you're both done meet up with me in the garage so we can start getting the war rig ready for the supply run to gas town next month. We clear?” We both nodded in understanding, “Good go on now, get to work!” Jumping up at the same time we dumped our bowls into the collector bin by the doorway and parted ways to our respective assignments.  
Hours later the sun hung high in the sky bearing down on the wretched below, as the crowds of filthy parched faces clung to the base of the plateau hoping against hope that today the great Immortan would let loose the torrents of precious water to ease their suffering. Fierce battles were often waged between small groups of the wretched for whom have the privilege of being closest to the base of the torrent's path; each victor graced with just enough water to last until the next downpour. It was from the openings of the garage bay I watched these tiny people fight so desperately for the resources I was blessed with just by being a War boy. 

A quick slap to my spine jarred me from my musing as Morsov leaned over my shoulder to have a look at what had drawn my attention away from the shiny engine block suspended from the lift kit. “Whatcha lookin' at Nux? Don't tell me those mediocre sods are more interesting than this beauty of a machine,” he exclaimed spinning me around to shove me into the engine block. Grabbing the block with both arms to keep from swinging it off its suspension hook, I steadied the heavy equipment and shot a quick glare before getting back to unbolting the pistons to inspect the damage. “I was just curious that's all. There's usually a big fight at the base a few days before the water is released to see who gets to stand closest to the water when it comes. I wanted to see what happens,” I mumble shyly as Morsov inspected the pistons chamber shaking his head in disapproval of the state of disrepair to this beloved machine.  
As he leaned over the block he quietly spoke to me just loud enough so as not to be overheard by the other repair boys in the garage, “Try not to think about them Nux. Its not their destiny to be up here if they are down there, if they are found worthy like the gatekeepers found us to be then they'll be lifted up and given the chance to enter Valhalla. But if it is not to be there is nothing we can do.” Silently I nod thinking it over as I replaced the warped piston from the block exchanging it for an offered replacement from a scraped engine. It just seemed wrong somehow that the people below fight amongst each other instead of helping one another like my brothers have helped me. 

If we were all stuck in a place that gave out water we would team up to catch as much as we could then share what we had, instead of killing one another for it. Why didn't these people understand? Maybe that's why people like Morsov, Slit, and I were living in the Citadel serving Immorten Joe while they remain below far away from his greatness; never to enter the gates of Valhalla. Its not long before I force myself to stop thinking about the wretched, thoughts like those only make a person soft and I had already vowed I wouldn't go soft ever. With the last bolt tightened into place the block was fully repaired in all its chrome glory, ready to become the powerhouse of a glorious war machine; my task complete I set about putting my tools away in preparation to meet up with the Ace. Before leaving the repair bay I waved to the other boys working as I made my way out towards the garage the excitement putting an extra boost to my step pushing my feet to carry me faster towards the coveted war rig. To my surprise Slit had not yet made it to the garage so I set out to locate the Ace by myself. Bobbing and weaving my way through the many hard working bodies in the shop I finally spotted the Ace overseeing the repairs of the war rig's tire that had blown out. 

 

The sight of the war rig was truly breath-taking with all its majesty and raw power just itching to be driven into battle on the fury road. Reverently I placed my pale hand on the cool metal of the tank enjoying the smooth texture beneath my rough skin thinking, 'what would it be like to drive such a beautiful chariot into battle?' Just the thought of all that horsepower at my fingertips sent a shiver of pleasure down my spine as I silently prayed to the great Immorten Joe that one day I'd have the honor of driving to Valhalla in this wonderful machine. “Dreaming of things that'll never happen Nux?” Slit said smirking cruelly as he came up behind me wearing an amused expression on his scarred face. The angry comeback I had ready to throw at him died on my tongue the minute I saw Ace behind Slit waiting for us to come to attention to receive his new orders. Smirking smugly I called out to Ace, “What jobs do you have for us now boss?” Startled Slit turned around to see Ace behind him with a serious expression that warranted complete attention to his words as he gestured behind us towards the war rig with his index finger. “The rig needs some maintenance done to the axle as well as the intake valves on the engine itself. Hop to it quick and there'll be extra food rations for ya if ya do a shine job!” Ace exclaimed with a commanding demeanor. This was a true leader all seriousness while on the job, no trace of the easy going story teller from this morning to be found in his eyes as he expected nothing less than perfection when it concerns his machine. With wrench in hand I gave Slit's shoulder a light tap as we set to work on the rear axle putting it back into proper alignment so it would run true when called upon for war. 

 

There was hardly enough light left from the day to finish the entire job but we did the best we could using a spare lantern to shine more light upon the intake valve that was smashed shut by some unskilled hand. Nothing a torch and a bit of spot welding couldn't fix in a pinch, by the time we were ready to call it quits for the day we had it sucking in air fast enough to put out a signal flare. Ace nodded smiling his approval of the repair job, “You boys did a fine job. Come next month this ol' girl will be running faster than she has in her entire life. Go to the mess hall and tell'em Ace said to fill you up until your tanks are overflowing.” Slit and I let out pleased barks of gratitude as we flashed V8 signs toward the Ace ready to eat our fill and turn in for the night after a good day's hard work. But just before we could leave the garage bay a loud blaring alarm sounded signaling a call to all able war boys to report to the elevator platform. Chaos erupted from the busy halls as war boys flooded into the tunnels packing the narrow corridors with dozens of pale bodies struggling to get past the other. Repair boys stood in the entrances handing out weapons of every shape and size to each able body that would take one as we all rushed to the main entrance thrilled to get some action after such a dull week. 

 

When Slit and I finally got to the platform we could barely get through the wall of flesh that had formed at the railing, there were too many people fighting for a chance to see the approaching threat. “I can't see a thing! What's going on Slit?” I cried out as I hoped up and down trying to see over the others blocking my view. “Don't know Nux, I can't make out much of anything we're too far away from here to see what's happening,” Slit sighed as he began kicking people in the back and demanding they move to let us through. Pushing and shoving through many pairs of legs we managed to crawl toward the edge of the railing to behold the spectacle that drew us all towards this one place. In the air just above the elevator platform was the the dying ember of a green flare that had been shot out moments earlier, slowly drifting down back to the ground below illuminating the people in a slime colored light. There at the base of the platform was a lone figure standing posed next to a cart with flare gun in hand as if waiting for the elevator to lower down to receive him.


	4. Quarantine

The whole room waited with baited breath for Immorten Joe’s judgment to be passed. The silence was so deafening that the sound of my own heart pumping blood through my pipes made time seem to stand still. Seconds ticked by for what seemed like hours as beads of sweat pooled on my forehead as we all patiently waited for something to happen. Between Corpus Colossum and Immorten Joe there were hushed words exchanged with great interest regarding the offerings; just from the man child’s facial expressions alone I could tell he was trying to persuade his father to take the offer. Any indication of decision would decide weather this foolish mortal would face death at the hands of our god or be richly rewarded for his bravery. Finally it seemed his fate would be sealed as Immorten Joe stood once more from his throne, gesturing for the newcomer to rise from his humble stance. 

“Young warrior you have braved the waste lands and survived the unforgiving fury road. You have outwitted my scouts and come deep into my domain without a shred of fear in your heart. When it came to defending your cargo you were merciless to those who stood in your way,” he paused as his gaze matched with that of the young road warrior. His gaze was intense with respect, it was a look that many war boys coveted but few ever received. “For all your deeds you shall have your reward. My son has persuaded me to accept your payment. However while you are my guest in the Citadel you will have an escort with you at all times and you shall be kept under quarantine during your stay. Do you accept these terms?” 

The mysterious boy nodded his fuzzy head in agreement to our leader’s decree with a pleased expression on his face. “How soon can preparations be made sir?” he said already getting down to business, “I imagine my people will need at least 15 warriors and 30 children to help bring our numbers back up. Plus the supplies and vehicles to transport them across the wastelands to the settlement. It took me about seven days to walk here, it shouldn’t be more than a three day ride back.” 

There was quiet chatter amongst the imperators as a contract was quickly forged dividing up responsibilities for the journey. I couldn’t believe my eyes as I watched the negotiations wax and wane; this is where lives were decided. All at once I knew I had to make sure I would be among the ones chosen to accompany the campaign to this new faraway land that was ripe for conquest. This was my chance to prove my worthiness; this is what I had been waiting for! 

As the light began to die with the setting sun the great Immorten dismissed his commanders, announcing negotiations would resume the following day. Immorten Joe’s eyes scanned the room until his gaze settled on me, “You war boy. Escort our honored guest to an unclaimed room and watch over him for the night. Make sure all his needs are met.” With a humble bow of my head I hurried to the shorter boy’s side ready to be of service to this important guest only to be brushed aside by Slit’s shoulder as he took point. Before I could reassert my position as the appointed leader Slit stood to his full height glaring at me as if to say ‘challenge me Nux, you know you will lose if you do.’ Resigned to my lower status I reluctantly backed down awaiting his instructions. Slit looked elated at the swift take over, his grin splitting his face into a sinister smirk. Dejected all I could think to do was hang my head in defeat as my best mate turned his attention to the young warrior to lay down the law of the citadel. 

 

Just when my thoughts were clouding with doubt and self hatred a gentle scarred hand rested upon my right shoulder, I glanced at the hand and followed the arm attached until I came face to face with Ace. His face was bunched up with concern, his serious eyes holding mine as he studied my face. “You need to stick up for yourself Nux. Don’t let Slit call the shots, Immorten Joe chose you to be in charge of his valuable guest and you just let Slit take that honor away from you without putting up a fight,”he pointed his chin toward Slit’s back as we watched him use his height to intimidate the shorter boy. The boy looked bored and was pointedly ignoring Slit’s display of superiority sending me the occasional curious glance, as if waiting for me to finish my talk with Ace so I could lead the way.

 

Still filled with some apprehension I shyly responded, “Do you think I could take him if I challenged Slit to a fight?” At this the Ace let out a belly rolling laugh that caused his goggles to mist up slightly, “You win a fight against Slit? Not in your half life Nux! Hah-aha!” My shoulders slumped as Ace’s words sunk in, but before I could trudge off Ace grabbed both my shoulders and pulled my ear close to his mouth. “I’ll let you in on a secret Nux. Its not always the strong that are worthy of Valhalla; Sometimes its the clever ones that make the cut,” he stealthily points at Imperator Furiosa who was chatting with another imperator. “There is a reason Furiosa is one of the best imperators under Immorten’s command. Its cause she uses more than strength to get the job done, she uses her willpower to shape the world.” While contemplating his wise words Furiosa looks in our direction, her eyes filled with hot fire as her sight flits from Slits imposing figure to Ace’s conspiratorial stance. With a mere nod she conveys a silent command to me, ‘Don’t let him take what’s yours. Fight for your place amongst the strong.’

 

Emboldened with new found courage from my commanders I marched toward Slit ready to take back my rightful place as the leader. The surprised look on the other boy’s face was the only warning Slit received before I grabbed him by his neck cloth and flung him to the ground, holding the cloth tightly around his neck. As he struggled to breath I kicked his legs out from under him flinging us both to the stone floor and slamming him face first into the dirt. While he tried to recover from the surprise attack my knees kept him pinned under my smaller form, I cautiously leaned forward to whisper into his ear. “This is my time Slit and you will not take away this honor that was bestowed upon me by the great Immorten himself. So either you follow me or I’ll finish this fight here and now. What’d ya say?” Angry grunts were the only answers I received so slowly I pushed off him and stood up. As I stood over him I held out my hand as a show of friendship, he stared at it for a moment as if not sure if he should take it but ultimately decided to accept the offered hand as he stood up from his sitting position on the ground. Slit smiled warmly at me, “So you finally decided to stand up for yourself, Nuxy. Its about time. I was starting to think you were growing soft,” he said as he clapped me roughly on my back.

As everyone began filing out of the throne room I led the way to the imperator’s barracks with Slit backing up the rear of our little escort with the traveler wedged between us sticking close to our every step. For a small guy he was quite sure footed, barely missing a step on the steep climb as we ascended the stone staircase to the nicer barracks inhabited by the higher ranking commanders. I glanced over my shoulder to make sure he was still in between us as I tried to make small talk. “So what’s it like living in the wastes? Do you have your own car? If so why didn’t you come with it?,” the boy shrugged his cloaked shoulders dismissively as he readjusted his dark green face cloth. ‘He must not be much of a talker,’ I mused to myself, ‘ Maybe he doesn’t know how to drive and that’s why he had to push the cart across the desert.’ Then a thought occurred to me.

 

“Was it your idea?” I asked him. The boy’s eyes quirked up to my question, “What was my idea?” he asked. I glanced over my shoulder to smile at him as we rounded another staircase. “Making a mirage cart!” I exclaimed excitedly, “Its’ no wonder you made it as far as you did. I bet you could sneak up on anyone if you had a car covered in that shiny metal.” Whether it was the enthusiasm or appreciation of his clever idea I was happily surprised when our guest smirked shyly as he kept up with our quick pace. “You’re right. It was my idea but you’re wrong about one thing,” he stated proudly.

Puzzled at his response I asked him what I was wrong about. He let out a little chuckle as he explained. “It would defeat the purpose to attach stealth gear to a car. A car is too loud and easily gives away your position. Plus if you fitted it with stealth gear anyway it’d be almost impossible to maintain ‘cause the slightest crack or warp in the metal will destroy the cloaking capability. A cart is much smaller and better for a journey requiring the ability to be invisible.” 

This thought had not occurred to me. This young pup had chosen his chariot very carefully for his purpose; it was clear he was more clever than the average road warrior. As we were nearing the barracks I turned around and started walking backwards to continue the conversation. “What do ya think Slit? It’s pretty chrome, don’tcha think?” I said cheerfully. Frowning Slit spit on the ground as he disagreed, “Mediocre. Why sneak up on your enemies like a coward? Only the weak go for such cowardly means to fight. Anyone that pulls that kind of shit is unworthy of Valhalla.” My smile disappeared, “Surely you’d take out more enemies if you took them by surprise. I mean wouldn’t that be more bad-ass to take out ten with one attack than maybe three or four in a head on fight?” Slit didn’t say anything, his face only presenting an annoyed glare that told me I had been talking too much and it was beginning to irritate him. Seeing as how an irritated Slit was usually a violent Slit and lead to me getting smacked around as a result I thought it best to quite the chattering.

Finally we made our way to an uninhabited room that would serve as the temporary resting place for our charge. It wasn’t much to look at; just a private single barrack furnished with a cot, a rickety metal fold out chair, and a rusty bucket to take a piss in. “Alright here is where you’ll be staying until all the negotiations are complete,” I explained as I pulled back the curtain serving as the only barrier from prying eyes. I stood to the side as the boy stood awkwardly at the entrance before Slit became impatient and shoved him inside the room. “Come on we don’t have all night! Move it!” The weight of the younger warrior’s gear shifted sending the poor sod falling into the room face first onto the cold hard ground. 

“Slit he’s our guest! Why’d you shove him?!” I exclaimed as I ran over to help the guy stand back up. Loud obnoxious laughter was the only response Slit gave as he held his sides doubled over laughing as the kid stood up shakily. “Weaklings who can’t even stand up while wearing their tools are useless in battle!” Slit said as he turned away from the doorway. “Where are you going Slit?” I called out to him before he could walk away. He turned to me with a miffed expression, “I’m going to get food. You stay with the runt and keep watch over him. Just because he’s a guest doesn’t mean he’s anything special. I’ll bring you back some food later.” At the sight of Slit’s retreating form I turned my attention back to the honored guest realizing my hands were still gripping his arms and holding him in place. Guilt for my lancer’s actions formed like a chunk of cold iron in my gut as I tried my best to brush off the dust from the boy’s clothes. The gear the boy wore on his utility belt was well maintained with barely any tears in the black fabric, there must be armor underneath his shirt because the back felt firmer like it was covering up a thin sheet of metal. “I’m sorry for my partner’s attitude. He’s just a little grumpy cause he hasn’t eaten dinner yet,” I explained as I helped him up from the floor while I examined his belt wondering what tools were in the many compartments. 

“It’s fine, it’s nothing I haven’t had to put up with before. I know I’m not the biggest or the strongest,” he said as he unhooked his belt and laid it on the floor next to the head of the bed. “But I’m still here. So I guess I must be doing something right.” After removing his heavy load he stretched out on the cot splayed out like a lizard catching the last light of the sun during a bright hot day. Not sure what else to do with myself I settled for sitting on the floor as we waited for Slit to return with food and aqua cola. 

After the sky had grown dark my stomach growled angrily; I was quick to rub my belly as I tried to think of anything but food. “Just be patient a little longer little engine. Slit will be back soon with fuel for you,” I cooed as I rubbed my cramping stomach that continued to rumble loudly in protest. A grunt from the other occupant of the room caught my attention as he sat up from the bed and began rummaging in the compartment boxes on his utility belt. Finally finding the one he was searching for, he opened it to reveal a small brown lump and proceeded to break it in half reveal a cloud white center. His long thin arm stretched out towards me, “Here. Eat this if you’re hungry, it’ll keep you full while we wait for your friend to return. Though I doubt he will as he doesn’t seem like a good friend, I don’t even think he’s coming back for you tonight so you might as well help me eat the last of the rations I packed for the journey here.” As I accepted the generous morsel he proceeded to munch on his portion with a thoughtful look on his face. “I don’t think we introduced ourselves yet. You can call me Stitch. What do they call you?” he says with a mouthful of the dry crumbly food. The meal was dry and rough tasting to my tongue; I could barely swallow the first mouthful. “It’s Nux. My name is Nux,”I say proudly after finally managing to not choke on my food.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry for the two year hiatus. I’m proud to say I’m well established as independent adult so now I have more free time to write. I’m officially picking up this story again and I intend to finish it. It is quite discouraging since I have few followers or people commenting so please by all means leave feedback! Stay tuned for the next chapter!

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I am in no way, shape, or form profiting from this fanfiction story. All the Mad Max films belong to Mel Gibson and the writers/producers of the Mad Max franchise. The only things I own in this story are the characters of my own creation. Also I have been slightly inspired by Lois Lowry's book series 'The Giver', and as such have borrowed a few phrases and ideas from the first book. I do not own or profit from these books either, they belong entirely to Lois Lowry. This is also my first time writing a fanfic with the intention of publishing it on FanFiction.net so please be kind and constructive with your criticism.


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